The Real Monsters
by ficflicker
Summary: Alrighty then, here's my own version of the events that occured after Dead Rising because scrolling text is NOT AN ENDING!
1. The Escape

I don't own Dead Rising but that goes without saying. If I said otherwise, would you believe me? Anyway, this story will stay in Crossovers until a Dead Rising category is put up. For the record it's NOT a crossover. I'm sorry.

Alright, before I begin writing this, here's a short rant. I don't know about any of you, but the cliffhanger ending of Dead Rising PISSED ME OFF. It was a great game with a lackluster finish. They were doing great until they turned to text. I don't want to read that Frank got away; I want to see the little bastard driving away with a big freakin grin on his face while baldy gets eaten by the living dead. And what about Isabela and everyone else? Come on Capcom don't be cruel. You had a choice, but now you're obligated to make a sequel whether you like it or not. With that said, it's time to begin my story. Here's my own version of the events that would have occurred had the game not ended at such a pointless moment. By the way it isn't comedy. Surprise!

Enjoy…

Isabela Keyes balanced atop the overturned jeep, kicking away the occasional zombie who managed to get close. Despite the obvious threat of the swarming undead, her attention was drawn to the large tank several meters away. Atop the machine was Frank West, a freelance photojournalist who only recently had become an unofficial zombie slayer. Frank was on his knees, his fists pressed against the steel of the tank. He paid no attention to the morbid scene occurring below him. A few of the zombies had turned their attention to Brock Mason, the former commander of the Special Forces unit sent to "clean up" the Willamette incident. Thanks to Frank and the zombies, however, it seemed Brock's mission had failed miserably. Frank rose to his feet, turning his gaze to the gathering dead. When he saw the creatures for the first time, he knew them only as bloodthirsty beasts. Now he understood what they truly represented. Carlito Keyes' words echoed through his head as his eyes moved from face to face. "All they do is eat and eat and eat, growing in number. Just like you good red white and blue Americans". Brock Mason had taught Frank that humans could be just as cruel and brutal as any zombie. He reflected on everything the government had done. The thought of every death they caused every life they destroyed made him feel sick. He looked to the sky and released a loud, agonized roar. He mourned for the survivors lost. He mourned for Santa Cabeza. He mourned for Jessie, Brad, Otis, even Carlito. Everything that had been lost sent another wave of anger and sorrow through him. When he returned his attention to everything around him, he glanced over at Isabela, whose eyes were fixed upon him. Noticing the amount of zombies making their way toward her, Frank decided it was time to get out of there. He turned to the hatch of the tank and climbed inside. After examining the complicated controls, he maneuvered the massive construct clumsily over to the jeep. Once the two vehicles were close enough to each other, Isabela pulled herself onto the top of the tank and made her way into the hatch. Frank tried to turn the tank toward the exit, but instead shot several missiles at the jeep, destroying it completely along with several zombies. "Well, at least we know that works…" he sighed. Isabela shook her head and pushed Frank away from the controls, then quickly turned the tank toward a nearby alleyway that presumably led out of the area. She turned to Frank and said, "You really should be more careful Frank. That's your problem you're too careless." Frank laughed and replied, "Well if being careless got me this far, I can't say I regret that particular choice. Anyway, why didn't you tell me you knew how to drive a tank?" Isabela smirked and said, "There's a lot about me I haven't told you Frank. When you get mixed up in crazy schemes like this all your life, you pick up on certain things." She turned the tank carefully around a corner. Frank looked at her a moment, then frowned and said, "Look kid, if this partnership is going to work out you're going to have to start telling me these things ahead of time. I'm sick of hearing everything at the last minute." Isabela cocked an eyebrow and turned to Frank once again. "Partnership? What exactly do you mean by that?" Frank opened his mouth as if to speak, then began staring at the monitor, watching their progress. He hadn't really thought about what he'd do after they escaped. He would probably return to his apartment, sell his story, and enjoy life until the parasite kicked in. There wasn't much else to be done. Still, he worried about what would become of Isabela. With Carlito dead, there was nobody left to watch over her. He found it hard to imagine leaving her alone, but due to his infection he was an immediate danger to her and anyone else he came in contact with. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, wishing that there were some way to remove the parasite. As he continued to think, the strain of the past few days took effect. Within seconds Frank was asleep.

Isabela looked over at Frank and smiled. Normally she wouldn't let him leave her to do all the work, but she knew what he had been through lately. He deserved to rest after everything that had been forced on him. Isabela herself had known about the zombies for years, but it was all still new to Frank. As Isabela guided the tank through the passageway, she thought about Carlito. She had known about the dangers of his mission, but she still found it hard to believe that he was gone. She felt tears roll down her cheeks as she realized once and for all that she would never see her brother again. His remains were doomed to rot in the basement of that god-forsaken mall. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Frank was awake again. "Hey come on now, buck up. It's over, alright? Everything's going to be fine." Isabela smiled at him and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, then returned her attention to the monitor. Not far ahead was an opening in the passageway. They had finally made it. The tank rolled out of the passageway and into the streets of Willamette. Few Special Forces posts remained in the town, and none of them seemed to be suspicious of the tank. A few soldiers even waved as it passed. Frank laughed when he saw this. Obviously the news of Brock's death hadn't spread. With this cover, it was easy to slip past the guards and out of the town. It took about three hours for Isabela to find another town. At last, they came across Alamosa, Colorado. Isabela parked the tank outside of the city to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. Within a few hours, they had made their way through the city and found an inn. They decided to wait till morning to find a flight out of there. In the room, Frank paced about while Isabela sat on the bed, examining the locket Carlito had left her. They remained silent, and the only sound was the loud music blaring from the room next to theirs. Finally, Frank banged his fist against a wall. "That's it, I'm going over there. These jackasses aren't going to turn that shit down anytime soon. I'll be right back." Isabela nodded at him and returned her attention to the locket. Frank pulled on his coat and stepped out of the room. He walked to the nearby door and knocked on it loudly. When the door opened, he could never have been prepared for what was on the other side. A man stood before him. He was about the same height as Frank, but with much shorter hair. He wore a bright orange jumpsuit and a white t-shirt. Playing cards at a table behind him were two other men in the same clothes. The man examined Frank for a moment, and then grinned broadly. "Hey Miguel! Reginald! You gotta check this out! Look who dragged himself out of the night of the shopping dead back there." The two men behind him looked up from their game and then ran toward Frank. They greeted him as though they were old friends, and Frank just stood staring at them. Miguel frowned at Frank's response. "What's wrong guy? Don't you recognize us?" Frank stepped forward, scowling menacingly. "You tried to beat me with a bat… you shot me… and you ran me over. Do you expect me to be glad to see you?" Reginald turned to the convict who had opened the door. "You hear that Sam? This bitch wants to act like he ain't shot nobody the whole time we were there. Come on dawg, you know it was all for kicks." Sam laughed and joined in. "Yeah. I thought only old chicks held grudges that long." Frank clenched his fist and glared at the convicts. "Whatever. Anyway, how did you get out of the mall? There were Special Forces everywhere." Miguel lit a cigarette and stepped toward Frank. "We got out the same way we got in, that jeep. It ain't that hard to figure out." Frank shook his head and stepped back, away from the door. "Well I'd love to stay and chat but I tend to shy away from people who have tried to kill me." The convicts waved and slammed the door on Frank, who turned and headed back into his own room. When he walked through the door, he found Isabela asleep on the bed. Frank hung his jacket on the back of a chair and moved toward the bed. "Finally. I never thought I'd see a real bed again." He collapsed onto the bed next to Isabela, who immediately turned and glared at him. He blinked at her a few times, then sighed and stood up. "Well, I guess the couch works too." Frank settled down on the couch, trying to make himself comfortable. He yawned and flipped the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. He stared at the ceiling, the events of the past few days flying through his mind. He thought of everything he and Isabela had been through. They had helped each other through the whole ordeal, and neither would have survived without the other. Despite that, Frank couldn't understand why Isabela was unwilling to share the bed. "Bitch." He hadn't meant to say it out loud, and he immediately regretted it as an alarm clock nailed him in the face. He grabbed his face, wiping the blood from his nose and tossing the clock aside. "Ow! Dammit, what was that for?" In the darkness, Frank heard Isabela laugh softly. "Goodnight Frank." Frank grumbled to himself for several minutes before finally falling asleep.

To be continued…

Ok now I have no idea whether I can write non-comedy stories. I've tried, and last time I got no reviews so please people. Help me out. Tell me what you thought. If enough people actually liked this I'll write more. Anyway this one's dedicated to every Dead Rising fan out there. And Otis. We'll miss you.


	2. An Old Friend

I refuse to do another disclaimer. You should get the point by now.

Anyway, welcome to yet another installment of this story. If you're reading this it means one of two things; you either enjoyed chapter one and want to continue or you found my attempt to be so pathetic that you just HAD to see me fail again. Either way I'd like to thank you for reading. I'll shut up now.

Here we go again…

Frank West opened his eyes to find a handgun inches from his forehead. Standing over him was Isabela Keyes; gun in hand, and with a terrified expression on her face. Frank put a hand to his head, glancing around. The first thing he noticed was that he was no longer on the couch, but leaning against the wall near the bed. The second thing he noticed were the three bullet holes in his leg. He tried to stand, but was unable to pull himself up. Isabela put a hand on his shoulder and forced him back down, keeping the gun to his head. Frank stared at his leg for a few seconds, then turned his head to Isabela. "What the hell is going on here?" Isabela looked at him for a moment before standing and turning away. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "You… you lost control about an hour ago. The vaccine is wearing off. I can't say how much time is left but…" She threw the gun across the room and fell onto the bed sobbing. Frank tried again to pull himself up, but was once again unable to stand. Giving up, he put his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "So I'm going to be one of those things soon? Well that's just PERFECT! Anyway what's with the leg shots? Haven't you learned to aim for the head by now?" Isabela sat up and wiped her eyes, looking at Frank sadly. "I know, but there's no way I could just kill you. The zombies back at the mall were one thing, but this is different." Frank laughed and put his head in his hands. "It would be better than just sitting here waiting to turn. Then at least you'll be safe." Isabela climbed off the bed and walked over to Frank, slapping him across the face. "Don't say that! You never gave up before, why now? There has to be something we can do." Frank rubbed his faced and sighed. "Whatever. If there's something that can be done that's fine, but I'm not getting my hopes up. So what's your plan then? Keep in mind that we have no money, no queens, no supplies, nothing. What do we do first?" Isabela walked over to the other side of the room and back a few times, then sat on the bed again with a solemn look on her face. "We have to go back." Frank jumped up, supporting himself on his uninjured leg as he staggered toward the bed. "What!? You want to go back there? Are you insane? We finally got out and now you want to go right back in!" Frank kicked the bedpost, then howled in pain and fell flat on his back. Isabela ran over to him, helping him move to the bed. She examined his leg, then stood up and moved toward the door. "I'm going to go see if I can find some bandages or something to fix that leg. Don't go anywhere." Frank glared at her and snapped, "Don't go anywhere? Wow, ya think?" Isabela rolled her eyes and rushed out the door. Frank fell back on the bed, closing his eyes once more.

After a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. Frank ignored it at first, but when the knocking didn't desist, he pulled himself up and stumbled to the door. When he opened the door, he was greeted with a kick to the chest that sent him flying back onto the floor. The man stepped into the room and locked the door securely behind him. He walked over to Frank, prodding him with his foot. The newcomer wore a black Special Forces uniform and a gas mask. Frank had no idea how anyone could have tracked him down unless… "Tracking system in the tank huh?" Frank coughed and sat up, only to be knocked back down by another kick. The strange man didn't say a word. Instead he walked across the room to the nightstand. He looked about carefully, then pulled Isabela's locket from the stand and stared at it in his hand. He walked back over to Frank and kneeled down, wrapping a hand around Frank's throat. Frank gagged and grabbed the man's wrists, trying franticly to pull them away. The man loosened his grip, but did not remove his hand. After a few seconds he finally spoke. "Where is she?" Frank glowered at the mysterious man, and then said, "I have no idea what you're talking about." The man promptly punched him in the face. "Don't play dumb, tell me where Isabela is. NOW!" Frank raised an eyebrow, pulling the man's hand away from his neck and scurrying away from him. "How do you know Isabela?" The man stood up and peeled the mask from his face. Frank gasped as he stared at the man he had believed to be dead. The man responsible for everything that had happened in the past few days. Carlito.

Frank pulled himself to his feet once again, using the bed for support. "How did you… I thought you were dead." Carlito smirked, then stepped over to the window. "You should always make sure your enemies are dead Mr. West. You who boasts about covering war stories should know that. That's not the point though. Tell me where Isabela is and perhaps I'll let you live." As if on queue, the door opened and in walked Isabela. She was carrying a shopping bag containing food and several first aid supplies. When she saw Carlito, she dropped the bag and stared at him. Carlito turned to her and smiled, moving toward her. "Isabela! I never thought I would see you again!" As Carlito approached, Isabela took a step back, still staring at him. Carlito stopped for a moment, then moved forward once again. As he did so, Isabela moved further away. After what seemed like ages, Isabela broke the silence. "You have no right to be here." Carlito seemed confused by this statement. "Isabela I…" Isabela stormed up to him, pushing him backward. "All of this was your doing Carlito! You said you wanted vengeance for what happened to Santa Cabeza, but you only replicated its fate. You are no better than the men who created those monsters!" As she continued to push him back, Frank limped forward, standing between them. He put his hand on Isabela's shoulders and moved her away from Carlito, who gawked at his sister, obviously shocked by her anger. Frank looked at him, then back at Isabela. "Don't be too hard on him. What he did may have been unjustified, but he only did what he thought was right. You have to remember, he wasn't acting for himself." Frank then turned to Carlito. "Listen up buddy. I'm going to give you a choice. We can bury the hatchet here, or I could drop you off at the nearest butcher shop. Take your pick." Carlito glared at Frank, then drew a handgun from his pocket and aimed it at Frank's chest. Frank sighed and ran forward to tackle him. As they collided, Carlito pulled the trigger on the gun as he flew toward the ground. Frank pinned his hands to the ground and tried to keep him from slipping away. Carlito snarled at him, then scanned the room for a way out. As his eyes fell upon his sister, his expression changed to a look of horror. "Isabela!" Carlito shoved Frank away and ran to Isabela. She was unconscious on the floor with a bullet wound in her stomach. Carlito rushed over to her and knelt down, then turned and pointed accusingly at Frank. "You. This was your fault." Frank stood up and said, "MY fault? How could this be my fault? YOU shot her!" Carlito pointed the gun at Frank once again. He waited a few seconds, then pulled the trigger. He was rewarded with a loud click, revealing that the gun was dry. At this, Frank rushed forward and knocked the gun from his hand. He then grabbed Carlito by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the wall. "Listen, unless you want your sister to die here this isn't the time to argue! We need to get her to a hospital!" Carlito glared at Frank, but after a long pause he nodded. Carlito lifted Isabela off the ground, and with Frank's help they brought her to the stolen humvee Carlito had parked outside the inn.

After driving around the town, they eventually came across the local medical center. They brought Isabela inside and were dismayed to find the hospital full of people with various injuries. After much shoving, they moved through the throng of people to the desk. Frank pushed the man already there aside and leaned on the counter. "This woman has been shot, we need a doctor." The girl at the desk looked up at Frank, then at Isabela, then back at Frank. "Look sugar, I'd love to help but this place is crammed with people with injuries. We've been working on transfers all day. There's just no room for everyone here, and we've filled over 3 other hospitals since this morning. We have to call in a chopper to transport these people out of Colorado. If you'll just fill out this form…" She pushed a paper forward, which Frank grabbed and tore to shreds. He then grabbed the woman by the shoulders and shook her violently. "I don't care you stupid bitch! Just get us a doctor, now!" The woman panicked and grabbed the intercom. She raised it to her mouth and yelled, "Security to the lobby! Hurry!" Three men in police uniforms entered the room and rushed at Frank. The first began reading Frank his rights, and was immediately thrown over the desk. The second pulled a stun gun from its holster and charged at Frank, but was tripped by Carlito and knocked onto his own tazer. The third stood on the other side of the room, staying as far from Frank as possible. Frank and Carlito shoved their way through the crowd of people and entered the ER. Occasionally, a doctor or nurse would try to stop them. They were all dealt with quickly. Finally, they arrived in the surgery room. A man was on the table having a large gash on his arm patched up. Frank pulled the wires and needles from the man and unceremoniously tossed him off the table. The man remained limp from the anesthesia, and was hauled off by two doctors. The surgeons began screaming at Frank, who punched one in the face. Carlito pulled another gun out and aimed at one of the doctors. "Now listen to me. My sister needs to be treated NOW. I suggest you get to work, because I promise you that if she dies, you will all join her. Now move." The surgeons stared incredulously at Carlito. "NOW!" At this outburst, the doctors immediately began working. They hoisted Isabela onto the table and began the operation. Carlito then turned to Frank. "Thank you for your help Mr. West, but I'm going to have to ask you to wait outside." Frank shook his head at Carlito. "Look, if it weren't for Isabela I wouldn't be alive right now. I'll be damned if I'm just going to walk away while she's hurt." Carlito nodded slowly, then turned back to Isabela. "You really care for her, don't you?" Frank stepped beside Carlito and looked down at Isabela. "She's been by my side since back in Willamette. She's the closest thing I have to a friend right now, and since this drug of hers doesn't last forever, I don't think I'll be having a lot of time to build more relationships with anyone." Carlito turned around, a concerned look on his face. "Drug? What drug?" Frank continued to stare at Isabela. "I was infected back at the mall. She managed to put this vaccine together that delayed the zombification process, but not stop it." Carlito turned back to Isabela, not saying a word. One of the surgeons operating stepped over to Frank. "Excuse me, did you just say something about the Willamette mall?" Frank looked at the man and said, "Yeah I did, what's it to you?" The doctor pulled the mask from his face and replied, "My father went there a few days ago with my daughter and never came back. What happened over there?" Frank put a hand on the man's shoulder. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but nobody other than us and a few convicts survived. There was a…. riot, in the town. Special Forces were called in. Everyone is dead." The doctor raised an eyebrow. "A riot? You mean they had one in Willamette too?" Frank looked quizzically at him. Seeing this, the man continued. "We had an uprising this morning. A bunch of drunks swarmed into a local grocery store and started biting everyone within reach. A few people died, and even more were injured. Hell, almost everyone in that lobby is here for some sort of bite-related injury. I'm surprised it spread to Willamette so quickly, but if my father WAS caught up in it I'm sure he could handle himself. He was in Nam so… he can deal with these sorts of things." Frank opened his mouth to speak, then thought about the man's words. He turned to Carlito only to see him leaving the room. Moments later he heard gunshots and screams, and immediately rushed out to the lobby.

There were several people scattered about, all of them with similar bite marks. Those left alive were huddled in corners or crying. Carlito raised his gun in the air. "Alright, anyone here for a bite wound, the doctors are ready to see you now." One man stood up shakily and was instantly shot in the face. Carlito blew the smoke from the barrel of the gun. "Anyone else?" Nobody moved. Carlito walked back into the emergency room along with Frank. When they returned to the room, Frank pulled a brown leather wallet from his pocket and walked over to the surgeon. The man had returned to his work, but stopped when he saw Frank approach. Frank tossed the wallet, which had once belonged to Cliff Hudson, onto the operating table and pointed at the picture of Cliff within it. "Is this your dad?" The surgeon picked up the wallet, then looked up at Frank. "Where did you get this?" Frank put his hand on the man's shoulder again. "He gave it to me before he died. I'm sorry." The doctor stared at Frank, then broke down crying. Frank patted him on the shoulder. "Hey come on now. Don't be so hard on yourself, if you want to blame someone blame me." The doctor looked up and said, "Why would I blame you?" Frank prepared to tell the man the story of how he had brutally murdered his insane father when Carlito pulled him aside. "Mr. West, it probably would not be wise to tell the man we need to save Isabela that you killed his father. Wouldn't you agree?" Frank nodded and turned back to the table. Carlito and Frank waited for hours before Isabela finally woke up. The bullet had been removed and the wound patched up. When she opened her eyes, Carlito rushed over and hugged her. "Isabela! Thank god you are ok. I thought I had lost you." Frank walked over and joined him. "Hey kid. Good to see you're awake. So, are you sick of getting shot by your brother yet?" Isabela sat up slowly and looked around. "Where… where are we?" Frank pointed at one of the doctors. "We hijacked a hospital. Anyway, it isn't safe here anymore. The zombies have spread outside of Willamette. We need to get to a plane or something." One of the doctors walked over to him. "The only airport still sending flights out is in Denver, and with all the roadblocks that were set up lately I don't think you're getting there anytime soon." Frank kicked one of the operating lights, knocking it onto the ground and shattering it. The doctors immediately began cleaning it. Isabela climbed off of the table and walked over to Frank. "Frank, this may not be so bad. Now we can get our hands on one of those Queens." Frank nodded and said, "I guess you're right. Still, we need to find a way out of here quickly. Half the town was holed up in the lobby when we arrived, most of them infected." Cliff's son looked up from cleaning the broken lamp. "Oh we haven't examined them yet, their wounds may not be infected. They probably just need stitches." Frank glared at the doctor. "Doc, shut up. Alright, let's get the hell out of here. We can stop by the inn and grab our things, then I guess we're heading to Denver." He turned and opened the door, only to be greeted by a crowd of zombies that began spilling into the room. The doctors tried to push them back, unaware of the danger. All of them were soon devoured by the rancid group. Frank grabbed a scalpel from the operating table and thrust it into one of the zombie's necks as Carlito shot them one by one. At last, Frank pulled the blade out of the final zombie and watched as it fell to the ground. Carlito reloaded his gun and laughed softly. "Feels good to be able to kill without remorse, doesn't it?" Frank looked seriously at Carlito. "I'm not much of a killer. The only reason I can stand to kill zombies so easily is because they're already dead. It's not the same when you're popping someone's death-cherry." Isabela laughed loudly. "Death-cherry?" Frank shook his head and checked to make sure the coast was clear. After he was sure, the three of them moved to the lobby and out of the hospital.

Once they were outside, they hurried to the humvee and climbed in. Frank started the car and sped away as quickly as possible. In the back of the humvee, Isabela leaned on the large turret. "By the way, thanks for saving me back there." Carlito turned and smiled at her. "It was no trouble. You would have done the same for…" Isabela interrupted him. "I was talking to Frank. It was YOU who shot me in the first place in case you don't remember. The way I see it we're even. Frank, I owe you one." Frank turned to her. "Don't worry about it. The way I see it you've saved my ass on more than one occasion. I had to do something. I mean I couldn't just…" Carlito grabbed the wheel and swerve to avoid crashing into a passing truck. "It would be best if you kept your eyes on the road and not my sister Mr. West. I don't think dying on the road during a zombie outbreak would make much sense." Frank laughed and continued driving.

Not the best place to end the chapter but hey, isn't that what Dead Rising is all about? Stopping at the worst possible times? Anyway I'll grind out another one soon enough, hope you've enjoyed the story so far. Peace, I'm out.


End file.
